love cannot make up for being misunderstood
15 personal learnings on love <3
Hi loves.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
A day late because I schedule my longer posts for Saturdays.
I’m no expert on love. And frankly, who can be?
Even dating coaches, relationship counsellors, happily-ever-afters and the most charismatic of souls have their share of compromising conversations and catalytic conflicts.
However, I believe that over these past twelve months, I’ve learnt a bit more about this four-letter buzzword.
Some, I believe, are universal. Timeless rules which are applicable regardless of whether you’re a Victorian-era nobleman offering a handkerchief to the fair maiden or the modern renaissance man characterised with a six-figure job, Hinge Premium and a superiority complex.
Some, I find, are more personal. Revelations on what works and doesn’t work for me, because love is not a one-size-fits-all bouquet of flowers, but sneakers from the department store. Countless brands sporting a myriad of models and depending on the weather, your lifestyle and what stage of life you’re in - you might find yourself gravitating to a pair you never thought you’d like.
(Only to find they make your feet hurt)
((Only to find you ought to break them in, and once that’s done, they become the most comfortable shoes you have ever worn))
1. Love cannot make up for being misunderstood
There is a difference between being accepted and being understood. They are a similar thing in practice, but I think there is a distinct undertone to each that makes the vibe of each completely different from one another — like studying for an exam versus studying for comprehension.
Let’s take a simple scenario. Person A loves going bowling with their friends. Person B interprets it as Person A not valuing time with Person B. In reality, Person A just loves bowling and wants to get better at it and enjoy being around being people as like-minded and passionate about bowling and in turn having the potentially incorrect belief that Person B would prefer not to be involved in it as they are not interested.
At worst, Person A could think Person B actively DISLIKES bowling and that Person A, every time they put on their dingy-coloured bowling shoes, is faced with the dilemma of choosing the person they love or letting go of bowling (which Person B interprets as doing less of a hobby, but Person A interprets as dismantling a part of their identity).
This idea undercurrents beneath them like sewage beneath a household, but unlike the sewers it does not keep the relationship alive (compromise) but creates a divisine strain (misunderstanding), putting the whole relationship under liquefaction risk - potentially crumbling like a ten-pin strike.
2. It is unfair to expect others to guess your needs and boundaries
By continuation on misunderstanding, we are not mind readers, and honestly thank God for that.
Our fight-or-flight instincts are incredible at picking up subtext but also exceptional at blowing things out of proportion, assuming the worst (when things are shit) or a cataclysmic reversal (when things are fine).
For a time last year, I felt stuck. I was trapped, lethargic, and feeling like I was made to do things that I didn’t really want to do, and me being me, my option was to place all blame on myself and eventually take it out on someone else.
How was she supposed to know that I was feeling lost? How was she supposed to know that I found something overbearing or not enough? How is it fair to grade someone on an exam that they don’t know they’re taking?
It isn’t. It’s not fair. I cannot, will not expect anyone to be a mind-reader who knows exactly what I need, and that goes tenfold when I can’t even explain what I need.
3. It is my responsibility to communicate my needs and boundaries
And that’s why I’ve grown to be all about responsibility. Ownership of your decisions. Accepting and understanding of boons and busts, uplifts and consequences.
I am of the firm belief that it is my job to communicate what my needs and boundaries are, and only once they have been communicate, it is their job to agree, disagree, comply or dissuade.
I don’t want to blame anyone. I don’t want to blame others. I don’t want to blame myself. However, ownership must lie somewhere and that is where I think ownership must pertain. Only once these grievances, suggestions and intentions are aired out and given opportunity to improve, am I allowed to take out the red pen and have a critical think about whether it works or not.
And should I be blamed for something, that’s fair enough. I don’t expect or impose my standards on anyone else. I will accept the blame as graciously as I can, I can accept that, but trust that I will never, ever internalise it.
4. Overcommunication is often the solution
What is the number one cause of ended relationships?
Communication issues.
(I think it is? I don’t have the stats to back it up but I think a ton of common breakup reasons are symptoms or behaviours driven out of a lack of communication.)
Call it radical, but I think the best antidote to lack of communication is simply overcommunication.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the best at communication. I chalk it up to the fact that people generally want a certain level of communication and that anything under that is being underinformed or withheld information, and anything over that is unnecessary overload.
Honestly, I think I’m still correct about that.
What I’m not correct about is assuming that most people think similar to the way I do and that certain people need more certainty about where I was, what I was doing, what was going through my mind and why I acted the way I did.
What I’ve realised recently is that the downside of being pissed off at an overwhelming burst of overcommunication is significantly less harmful than the hollow sensation of undercommunication, where you feel like you’re left hanging or delegated as second choice.
And look, if I was going to consistently commit one crime, then I’d rather choose the lesser evil of being an annoying cunt.
5. Feelings are more important than fact
Physicists theorise, in a galaxy far, far away, there is a plane of existence where math and science as we understand does not compute: where reproduction occurs via telepathy, objects fall upward in time and two plus two equals keshi.
Between you and me, we don’t need to go very far to find that.
A funky little equation that I’ve learnt in a relationship setting is that feelings are more important than fact, a bit like what the internet jokingly calls ‘girl math’, like how buying a pair of discounted jeans is actually a profit.
It doesn’t matter what the receipt says. It’s how it made you feel.
It’s not about the words you say. It’s not about how much money you’ve spent. It’s not about how cute or brave or frequent the declaration of love is, nor how the rent is split nor the hair is done nor what food is currently in the stomach. No computer can compute it. No scientist can conclude it. The history and future both have no sway.
If you think it’s good or bad, you’re probably right — it’s what it feels like here and now that’s all that really matters.
And look, I get it, this line of thinking leads itself into potentially toxic cycles and incel-like thoughts, but I haven’t found a better way to articulate it right now. Fact is powerful, but feeling is what moves the needle.
6. It is commitment that drives connection
Substack is home to a lot of poets who paint love with such beautiful words.
Like a watercolour, fading into the rain. With acrylics, so bright and hopeful and brimming with childlike wonder. On charcoal, angsty and grim, stories of heartbreak, abuse and hatred.
There’s this one post I can’t quite find (still looking!) about how when you share hearts with someone, when you see their ambitions and vulnerabilities with the bare nakedness of a Saturday morning light, you cannot help but find yourself in love.
Connection does not, CANNOT, happen at first encounter. Not to be confused with a crush, lust or infatuation. It does not ignite like a flint spark or click like a USB. It is always, overwhelmingly, a slow, rolling burn.
There’s a classic phrase about how how is giving someone your heart and hoping they don’t break it and that is, undoubtedly, commitment. It is not caused by the things movies love to highlight — the shared interests, the undying passion, holding open car doors, instant noodles at midnight, mountain-side proposals — but through consistency, through commitment, through telling yourself and one another that: “Yeah, this one in particular. He/she is my person.”
Slowly, then all at once.
7. I will never get over the fear of choosing the right partner
The previous six points are universal to varying degrees. This one is almost certainly personal — controversial even, a potentially limiting belief that I’ve carried, as someone terrified of one-way, sliding door moments. We’ll be centering around some personal views for these next few points.
The worst decision you can make is marrying the wrong person.
It’s a decision that spills into every part of your life, transforming your world into a gold-paved, rainbow-trodden path or a swampy wasteland.
By the wrong person, I don’t necessarily mean a toxic person.
Toxic people are foul and dramatic and unpleasant to be around. Everyone can identify it. Well, typically not the person in the relationship, but pretty much everyone around the relationship would invariably comment that it’s a toxic relationship. It has its signs. It’s easily identifiable. Again, it’s not to say that it’s easy to break away from terrible cycles of abuse but there is, in most cases, a breaking point where you realise you’re being treated like shit.
What I’m afraid of is the status quo, the stagnation that creeps beneath your nose, with nothing more than a sniffle. Pleasant. Decent. Nothing too shabby but nothing too spectacular, like a ham and lettuce sandwich from the airport cafeteria or a miscellaneous table decoration from Target. The kind which nobody would talk negatively about — in fact, everyone would say you look happy, and you probably are! You go the rest of your life thinking hey, it’s comfortable, it’s nice, it’s overall pretty good.
Realising however, at your deathbed or theirs, surrounded by smiling family portraits, that while you have stirred and simmered, your heart has never quite boiled.
8. What I look for in a person is different to what I look for in a relationship
If you asked me to write out the aspects of an ideal person, it tends to not be the kind of person I get drawn to. I think I can summarise why in three points:
To this day, I’m still unclear about the kind of person I like.
When asked to write it out, I’m more describing the kind of person I want to be instead of the person I want to be with.
Despite what I say, I am a fairly lenient person when it comes to expectations (which is something that I’m actually quite afraid of because it implies I may be too accepting or am quick to give up and settle - see point 7)
Fun fact: There’s an old belief during the tumblr-era where when somebody makes an OC or ‘original character’, they tend to draw 1) a mirror of themselves, 2) a mirror of who they want to be with and 3) a mirror of who they aspire to be — and I think I have a grave tendency of putting Person Two and Three together, when they’re actually very far from one another.
Furthermore, I’m of the view that different types of relationships do not exist on a spectrum but are different things entirely.
Romantic relationships are NOT an upgrade from platonic relationships.
They often are, but are NOT necessarily stronger than platonic relationships, existing on an entirely different plane.
Likewise, the kind of person I’d prefer for a romantic relationship differs greatly from a platonic relationship, to a work relationship, to a family member, to a drinking buddy, etc.
And honestly, in some cases, it’s preposterous to think that a single person can cover all your gaps.
9. I need to keep self-identity in relationships
Here’s another one of my relationship-related pet peeves:
I hate it when two incredibly interesting people get into a relationship and mesh into one boring unit with no personalities of their own.
This was one of the struggles underpinned throughout my 2024 retrospective where between relationship, career, and the life administration of keeping everything afloat - I felt like I was deprioritising my identity.
It was a time of self-blame, driven by people-pleasing tendencies and a bruised ego and with that did come my great fear of eroding into a shell of what I once was to play the part of what seemed right (see bowling example in point 1), even though it wasn’t right at all!
The same way that people say it’s never worth trading your mental health for the sake of your job, I have the rather selfish belief that you should never trade your passion and identity for anything — or anyone, either.
10. The love languages are a fraud
I realised quite late that the five love languages were not about romance, but relationships in general - as to how each person prefers to give and receive affection. On that front, I agree with the existence of five love languages. If you asked for my order, I would say:
Quality Time
Words of Affirmation
Acts of Service
Physical Touch
(major gap)
Gift giving
When it comes to romantic relationships, I think the five love languages are an awful measure of appreciation, and that’s because:
One of them is significantly more popular than the others (Quality Time)
Two of them are associated with negative stigmas (Gift-giving, Physical Touch)
Regardless, my take is this: In the vein of romantic relationships, Quality Time and Acts of Service are GIVENS. They are the top and bottom bun of your burger such that you cannot have a relationship without them. You MUST spend time with one another. You MUST do things for one another. If you cannot give (or worse, receive) either of them — then you’re simply unfit for a relationship as at right now.
Words of Affirmation, Physical Touch and Gift-giving are PREFERENCES. Every relationship needs some mix of them but as to what ratio and which is your most favoured ingredient, that’s dependent on the person, like the fillings of a burger.
To me, Words of Affirmation is my meat and cheese. This is because, again, to me, saying the worlds of thank you and I love you and especially I’m sorry are symbolic of honesty and courage, that you’re willing to put your ego aside and bare your naked heart. Physical Touch is the lettuce, tomato and onion that helps balance my otherwise greasy dinner and honestly, Gift-giving is the pickle — I appreciate that it’s there, but I wouldn’t be too upset if it wasn’t.
11. Chemistry needs contact
Despite being a lot lower on the list, Physical Touch is important to me.
Not in the touch-deprived, skin-seeking, vampire-sucking way but the I-can’t-connect-with-you-over-a-Zoom-call way.
Absence may make the heart grow fonder but it also fills my mind with uncertainties and insecurities. I hate how subtext and connotations cannot travel accurate across text messages and video calls — us humans aren’t built for that — how despite being as connected as ever throughout our aluminum metal boxes, we haven’t figured out how to communicate appropriately through it. The heart-to-heart is lacking, the chemistry is not there, and whenever I have and leave a video call — I end up with the same, hollow, empty-heartedness that I just clocked in and out of a Teams meeting.
The biggest respect to anyone who can do it, but I don’t think I’m built for long distance relationships. Not because I won’t love someone enough, but because I’d hate myself.
Cause if you can’t hold their hand or kiss them on the forehead, what’s the fucking point?
12. Once you get to know someone, you tend to have less conversations with them
Talking stages brim with discovery: favourite foods, go-to drinks, family situations, values in life, etc. After that though, once you know all the basic and eventually intimate and value-based details about your significant other: not much really changes. It returns to the small talk we all proclaim to not like very much: what to eat, the little shit at work, Sydney trains being an unreliable bore.
I felt really insecure about this at one stage, about not really having anything to say. I still do, honestly.
But then again, how can I?
I can, but often find it uncomfortable to talk a lot, because I’m hyper attentive to whether the other party is even interested in the conversation and I’m extraordinarily quick to shut myself up if I even catch a whiff that they’re not (which is why I struggle with point 4). It’s easy to address myself as an overthinker but really, my head is often blank, like a buzzing generator beneath an apartment building — that only occasionally surfaces in the form of tears of self-deprecation into a pillow, a conversation about the future atop a mountain or a Subtack post about fifteen realisations about love.
And honestly, that’s fine.
Not every day can, nor should, be a eureka moment.
13. Strong relationships are not broken by arguments (Emotional Kintsugi)
Kintsugi is an ancient Japanese practice that involves mending broken pottery with gold, renewing otherwise discarded stock into a beautiful new piece that does not hide, but embraces the damage done to it.
Traditionally, it’s a metaphor for finding beauty in perfections. In my view, it’s a courageous acknowledgement that a turbulent past if part of the story of who you are today.
I’m a big advocate for constructive conflict and to me, kintsugi is emblematic of that. Like weight son a bench press or a debate to brainstorm solutions, constructive conflict is tough but comes with clear, actionable steps in order to make things better, easier and more fun for all. I’m reminded of kintsugi whenever I find myself in these sliding door moments, where I’m tempted to react with undue harshness and crippling negativity - but I remind myself of my policies to be truthful, be good, and never speak in absolutes.
A mental, gold-plated note for myself to be careful with ultimatums and never, ever say something you might regret.
14. A failed relationship is the furthest thing from failure
However, it would be ludicrous to say that everything can be solved.
Relationships are not an equation, but an art (see point 5).
You can add more time. You can spend more effort. You can do everything you can and it still might not be enough because you cannot force compatibility onto another.
If they’re looking for 100 units of A and you can only provide 80 units - and they accept it; that’s called compromise.
If they’re looking for 100 units of A and you provide 200 units of B - and they, for whatever reason accept it; that’s called being misunderstood.
I used to have the view that I (please note the I, because this does not apply to everyone - it is just my personal belief) should only get into a relationship with the intention to be married, but I don’t fully believe in that anymore.
You get into a relationship to test compatibility.
How can you possibly know that you’re a good marriage match for one another without developing closeness (see point 7), without seeing them at their worst, without laying bare everything you’ve ever dreamt of?
Importantly, from this, I had the clouded view that if your relationship (intended for marriage) did not end up with marriage, it is failure.
It is not failure.
It’s simply a discovery of incompatibility.
That your paths don’t intertwine. That you prioritise different things in life. And if you choose to do that, it’s not failure, it is choice, and you cannot punish yourself for being on a different trajectory to someone else.
15. Self-love is the most important form of love
I have one selfish, ascertained belief that may go in direct conflict of what relationships teach:
I want my partner to make the decisions that serve her life the most — even if it means leaving me behind.
I cannot, WILL NOT, be the reason that someone doesn’t go for something they’ve really wanted
Your relationship should not overpower what you want for yourself, what works for you and your personal belief system — and that pretty much underpins every lesson I’ve detailed above.
I’m of the belief that only two things can overtake your prioritisation of self and that is 1) your religion, if relevant and 2) your children, who once they are born, will undoubtedly become the leading light of your life and you will sacrifice everything for them.
Until then, however, I want my partner to do things that serve her the most - even if it means deprioritising me (see point 9, point 14), because compromise is communication is necessary but nothing is worth your sense of identity and the values that you hold.
You are the only person you will be with for the rest of your life, so it does you a lot of good to treat them with kindness — the same as you would your child, the same as you would your God.